It tore across the battlefield, ripping through the corrupted flesh and frozen wreckage, carving up the monstrous bloom like peeling skin off a rotten fruit. Everything it touched was frozen solid. Even the regenerative tissue stopped twitching.
Malrik's brain stalled for a second. His little hat flew off in the wind. He'd seen dragons before. He'd dissected them, studied them. Hell, he'd killed them.
There was a time when dragons ruled the skies. Now? With the right equipment and a decent team, humans could hunt them down.
To him, dragons were no longer legendary threats. Just exotic materials for art. But this wasn't a real dragon. It was a phantom made from ice and pure mana.
The sound it made was enough to shake Malrik to the core. His thoughts scattered. The spirit bound inside his creation screamed in pain as the roar hit it.
This wasn't some ordinary spell. It was fear, weaponized.
Even Bryella was afraid of it. Deep down, buried in her memories, she had seen this thing before.
Seen it open its mouth. Heard it roar. And that fear hadn't left her. Not even now.
"Even I'm scared of this thing," she muttered. "So what made you think you wouldn't be?"
The icy dragon above took on terrifying clarity, its form no longer a blur of wind and snow. Malrik's demonic horn dripped with cold sweat, just before his entire body froze solid in an instant. And yet, he welcomed it.
The bitter cold snapped his mind back into focus. A crazed, twisted smile stretched across his face, baring jagged fangs and a grotesque tongue.
"Thanks, little girl," he said with a mocking bow, even as cracks spread through his frozen frame. "That danger sense of yours is sharp. I'll be making good use of it."
But he was lying. There would be no "later." She had to die. Now. Right here.
Bryella's face, already pale, turned ghostly white. That last attack had drained her, it wasn't just a flashy move. It had pulled deep from her core.
Above her, the dragon she'd summoned was still taking shape. Its body gave off a deadly chill, skeletal wings flapping slowly, glaring down at Malrik with bone-deep hatred.
With a low snarl, the beast began to descend. Its tail swept through the sky, dragging behind a storm of frozen rivers.
The force radiating from it was enough to kill any gold-rank monster on the spot. And all of it was aimed at this single battlefield.
No one could see what happened next. Not even Bryella.
"Eh…?" she muttered, confused.
A single drop of water splashed on her nose. Her heart stopped. There shouldn't be any liquid water in a place like this.
As a being born of ice, even the tiniest change in temperature screamed at her senses. And now, heat, real, rising heat, was pushing up from below. Her instincts kicked in hard. Without hesitation, she wrapped herself in an ice shell and blasted backward.
A second later, red-hot light burst out from where she'd just stood. A massive flaming hand erupted from the scorched earth, fingers curled like screaming faces.
It came down with crushing force. Her protective ice shattered on impact, evaporating in a flash of steam and splinters.
"…Tch. That's too bad. I was hoping you'd be slower," a voice muttered.
The fire recoiled, slithering back into the sleeve of a figure in black. He stood at the center of the charred crater, hooded and calm.
No face was visible, only swirling smoke. His robe twitched and writhed, as if it had a mind of its own.
Flames still leaked from his sleeve. Not normal fire. Just looking at it made something in her body scream.
It wasn't heat, it was something worse. Something wrong. Something had just been completely erased.
Bryella narrowed her eyes. Why had she hesitated? Why did her thoughts blur, even for a second?
That kind of lapse was deadly at this level.
That fire? Was it cursed? Mind magic? And her attack, her trump card, hadn't worked?
No. It had landed. The damage to the ground and the elemental residue proved it.
She just hadn't noticed what happened afterward… which meant something had diverted it.
"Tch… we've been searching all this time," the black-robed man said suddenly, chuckling darkly. He slapped his leg and burst into laughter. "And now here it is. Just like that. In front of me!"
His voice cracked into a cackle. "Hahaha… why did you burn it? That was Mine! MINE!!"
From deep beneath the ice, something shifted. The ground cracked, and a black, slime-like tendril slithered upward. A man clawed his way free, face half-frozen, skin split from the cold. Malrik.
Barely alive. He hissed through bloody teeth, "Damn it… that move had life-force art mixed in! I was going to,-!"
"Shut up." The voice cut him off coldly. "I was saving you for a ritual. But now that he's here, no wonder you freaked out and revealed your cards." The robed man didn't seem surprised. He just watched Malrik with a flicker of annoyance. His body trembled slightly, frustration leaking through.
Bryella had no interest in their madness. More enemies were arriving. Worse ones.
She didn't owe anyone anything. No need to stay. Without a word, she turned to leave.
Her earlier ice barrier had already collapsed under the strain of her ultimate and the backlash from whatever trick they'd pulled. Lifting herself with wind and snow, she blasted off into the distance.
A wave of her hand summoned a wall of snow behind her, not enough to hide power, but at least it would block line of sight. Right now, she didn't even have the mana left to bluff.
Bryella didn't need to hold her breath, she didn't even have one. She was an elemental of ice, made of snow and frost, not lungs and air.
Hiding her presence that way was meaningless. Even with her energy nearly drained, her recovery was faster than any human's. She just needed a little time.
But they don't plan to let her go.
Boom!
A searing beam of fire cut through the snowy screen behind her, melting everything in its path. She dodged in midair on instinct, but the edge of her robe still caught the blast and singed.
That was regular fire magic, not the strange, cursed flame from before. If she were in full condition, she could've swatted it aside with a flick. But that wasn't the issue.
Whoever fired that shot had aimed it directly at her. More beams followed.
Her brows furrowed, lips tightening in irritation. This wasn't just about power. They were tracking her.
In a place like this, overflowing with ice mana, it should've been impossible to pinpoint her, like finding a snowflake in a blizzard. But somehow, they were doing it.
"Don't let her get away! If you're not dead, move!"
"You thieving little witch! You stole my moment, I'll burn your soul for that!"